


Slush Pile

by This is Underwhelming at Best (Sangatsu)



Series: Audience Duplication [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23141539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangatsu/pseuds/This%20is%20Underwhelming%20at%20Best
Summary: No, please don't show up to work hungover
Relationships: Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Series: Audience Duplication [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661776
Kudos: 37





	Slush Pile

His brain is calling him stupid in at least ten different languages. 

Each one slips in between his endless ‘I love my job, I love my job’ mantra, which does absolutely nothing when you have to work with, fuck if he knows, two thousand rows of numbers in little rectangles waiting to be processed for six more hours. Who decided it’s okay for him to live alone in an apartment with an overhead kitchen cabinet dedicated to whiskey and gin? Who decided not to tell him he should not have pizza for dinner with a side of brown liquor on weeknight? There has to be someone responsible, someone who should be preventing him from doing the most absolute bananas a functioning human adult can do.

It’s him. He’s the one responsible. He’s also responsible for his terrible decision buying iced latte in the morning. It’s been seven years and here he is still struggling living the adult life.

He’s googling ‘how much ibuprofen is too much’ when Piers shows up behind his monitor.

“Help me set up the meeting hall.”

Raihan does not miss the way Piers looks down onto his desktop, filled with papers, painkillers, and Starbucks. “Why?”

“I have interns to brief.”

“No, I mean why me?”

Piers hums in fake thought “You steal my lunches and use my mug all the time. Also my options are pretty limited. Those aforementioned above make me entitled to your free labor.”

Nevermind each step he takes feels like a sharp jab straight into his brain, it’s still better than the dread from staring at the same excel worksheet daring him to do something productive. 

Arranging seats and tables into U shape would be therapeutic if it’s not for the noises of the furniture dragging against the floor. It must have shown on his face because Piers takes over the table arranging process and tells him the projector’s remote is missing and he needs Raihan to push its button to turn it on.

“Well that reminds me,” Piers says as he nudges the last table in place. “Is telling your workmate you had a pornographic dream about them counts as sexual harassment?”

His head hurts way too much to process a sentence with more than four words properly. “What?”

“Or does it depend on the person? Is sexual harassment something everyone deemed subjective?”

“I don’t think… I don’t know.” He could just stop at the first part of the sentence and he’ll be as helpful in answering the question. “Personally I don’t give a fuck. Ask them first if you’re chummy enough, maybe.”

Piers stares at him for a long time.

“Wow, mate.“ Raihan whistles.

“You and Leon were fucking on bed next to mine. We were in a villa in a beach house featured in an article in the previous issue.” Piers grimaces and damn if Raihan is not offended. But then Piers says, “Those photos were a pain in the ass to put on the page.”

Piers saw him naked. Piers saw him naked in his dream. Can he take that as a sign that he thinks about him naked now and then? “I’m sorry you had to dream about your work and your colleague, I guess.”

“I yelled at you two to cut it out because I was trying to get my shits done. I yelled ‘bloody arsehole’ and Leon said ‘can you not say that when I’m being fucked?’.”

Not only was he naked, he was the top. “I see...” Piers shrugs.

Honestly Raihan is so tempted to tell him he’d rather just lay back and enjoy.

“Sometimes you dream about flying spaghetti monsters and sometimes you dream about your coworkers’ dicks. It’s not that weird.” Piers pats his shoulder. “You have ballsacks under your eyes. The interns won’t be here until twelve. Take a nap, I’ll cover you.”


End file.
